


Who Needs Wishes, Anyway?

by nataliewrites



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:18:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataliewrites/pseuds/nataliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward is stuck on the other side of the Gate, away from those that he loves. He is jaded, cynical and lonely - but maybe there's someone who can change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Needs Wishes, Anyway?

Pure spite is the only thing that keeps Edward going, now. Spite towards everyone and everything that invariably brought him to that point in time, to make that fucking choice that he wishes he didn't have to.

But he knows he's done the right thing – leaving Al (who couldn't even grow up properly without making the same mistake twice, only Edward wasn't there to take the fall this time) back home in Amestris. Alphonse had their friends in the military, along with Roy, Winry and Pinako to take care of him as he grew up into the brilliant young man that Edward wishes he could be there to see.

Instead, he is condemned to live out the rest of his days in an unknown world that he hates because it is unlike, and yet so similar, to his own. Germany. He hates even the name. He hates Hughes, and Gracia, and Alfons – but, not really. He tries to hate them, he really does. He tries to hate them because they are constant reminders of all that he lost because of his mistakes. And he really tries to hate Roy.

Edward sees Roy sometimes. In the street, every now and then, a tall man with Roy's hair will walk by, or someone with Roy's clothes will stand near him in the train station. Once, someone with Roy's hands reached past him in the market to pick up an apple (and his heart leaps into his throat as he remembers that apples were always Roy's favourite, but, no, it couldn't be him…). Every now and then, someone with Roy's voice will call out. Regardless of what it is that reminds Edward of Roy, every single time, he turns. For a split second, his heart soars, filled with hope that, somehow, Roy had kept his promise to follow him to the ends of the earth if it meant staying by his side – and then it isn't Roy, and the illusion is ruined, and Edward's heart shatters all over again.

**

He saw Roy last week; in the café he visits each morning. He had the same height, the same hair, and the same trench coat that the bastard had been so damn fond of. Edward had looked up from the newspaper briefly, and the bread roll he was eating turned to sawdust in his mouth as he stared at the back of the man sitting two tables in front of him. And again, that sickening hope that Edward tried to hate had filled him and made him want to fly. Instead, he'd paid for his half-eaten breakfast and simply sat and waited until the man who looked like Roy stood up from his table and moved to walk away. Then, he'd accidentally-on-purpose gone and bumped into him.

'Oh, I'm s-' Edward had looked up, and the words died in his throat. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. It was Roy. His Roy. The same face, same skin, same gorgeous eyes that he loved to lose himself in.

'Are you okay?' the man had asked in Roy's voice, and Edward wanted to cry (and he would have given his soul just to hear that voice moan his name once more).

'Y-yeah, sorry,' Edward stammered, hating himself for not being able to wipe the shock off of his face (hating himself for wanting this man when he'd left his Roy in Amestris).

'You look like you've seen a ghost,' Roy-who-was-not-Roy laughed, with a tinge of awkwardness. The fact that his Roy would never have done something that undignified in public finally brought reality crashing down on Edward.

'Sorry, it's just… you look like an old friend of mine. He - he, uh, went missing.' Edward stammered. (Only later would the blonde realise that he had not been acting like himself, and he curses himself to the ends of the earth because, no matter which Roy it is, they always have that effect on him, and he hates it).

'I'm sorry,' not-his-Roy said, eyes softening (Oh God. Damn this man for stopping at this café. Damn Edward for being lonely enough to bump into him. Damn Edward for wishing on his birthday candles and eyelashes and shooting stars. Damn Edward for making every single one of those wishes 'I wish Roy was here').

'It's okay,' the blonde tried to smile. 'I'm sorry – I never finished apologising for bumping into you.'

And then he laughed with Roy's laugh, and Edward wanted to curl up in the middle of the street and cry himself hoarse until his Roy replaced this man. His Roy, who would hold him close, whispering promises of love in his ear whenever he thought the blonde was sleeping. His arrogant bastard, his suave ladies-man that only he had managed to tame. His Roy, who he'd never gotten the chance to say 'I love you' to before he'd disappeared again).

'I never got your name, by the way,' Roy-who-was-grinding-the-remains-of-his-heart-into-dust said.

'Edward,' he shook the other man's hand, fighting a shiver as he realised that their hands lingered just a moment too long – just like the first time he and his Roy had, a few weeks before they realised just how important they were to each other. (And even then, Edward had been too scared to utter the three words that, now, he would never get to say.)

'I'm Roy,' smiled Roy-who-was-now-setting-fire-to-the-small-lump-that-had-resembled-his-heart-once-upon-a-time. Edward managed to smile as Roy-who-was-Roy-but-wasn't checked his watch. 'I have to go – maybe we could meet up again sometime?'

'Uh, sure,' Edward said in a small voice. 'I come here every morning.'

The Roy-that-wasn't-his-Roy had given him a beaming, heartbreaking smile that left Edward breathless for a second, before walking off with a last look and small wave over his shoulder (the same beautiful smile and timid wave that his Roy had given him, after Edward had been brave enough to initiate their first kiss).

**

Edward hasn't left his apartment since. He's using up too many of his sick days – his job will be on the line if he doesn't come in soon. He got the phone call last night from his boss who sounded only too happy to threaten him with being fired. Edward doesn't much care – he hates his boss and his boss hates him, but Edward's rent is expensive and he has no money. For the first time since he saw Roy, he drags himself out of bed (he needs to change the sheets, he thinks, and hates himself for confusing both Roys in the throes of ecstasy. Again, he damns the birthday candle, eyelash or shooting star that had decided to actually do it's fucking job for once), and makes his way to the shower (still hating himself for not being able to sleep without dreaming about the encounter with the Roy that wasn't his). Against all better judgement, he decides to return to the café two hours before he has to go to work. It's not like he's got anything to do anyway, and he could use an extra-strong coffee and something sweet. He spends the whole walk trying to convince himself it's not because he hopes that Roy will be waiting for him there.

Edward's heart plummets as he realises that Roy isn't there. He whiles away the two hours by picking at the sweetest and most sickening, diabetes-inducing dessert on the menu. He tries to enjoy it and pretends that he doesn't spend the whole time remembering his Roy feeding him chocolate-covered strawberries on their anniversary, or him cooking Edward's favourite foods on his birthday. He also pretends that he isn't wondering whether this Roy would do the same.

'Penny for your thoughts?' Maes Hughes grins at him and slides into the seat across from the blonde as he forces down the last mouthful of the caramel slice that makes him want to throw up. 'Ah, I know that face. Girl troubles?'

Edward can't help but smile. Germany or Amestris, Hughes hasn't changed one bit.

'Guy troubles, actually,' Edward admits softly and watches Hughes for a reaction.

Hughes' eyebrows rise momentarily, before his face takes on a melodramatically devastated expression. 'Ah, Edward, you wound me so! You're young, carefree, intelligent and extremely good-looking – so many girls would kill to have a man like you, and yet, your preference resides with men! Such a tragedy.'

Edward laughs, feeling better than he has in a long while as Hughes heaves one last sigh, before he straightens up and switches to the fatherly mode that the blonde loves, but would rather die than admit.

'So, tell me about these guy troubles,' Hughes leans forward, a twinkle in his eye. 'Just because I can't set you up with any pretty girls, doesn't mean that you're off the hook.'

He sighs – if he's honest with himself (which he hasn't been for the past week, ever since that moment when he saw Roy sitting nearby), Hughes is the only one he would trust to talk to about his current issue. He may as well give it a go.

'Well… I met someone last week-' he ignores the excited grin on Hughes' face '- and he looks exactly like the person I fell for before I came here.'

Hughes nods. He knows about Amestris and most of the people there, and Edward realises he's never told him about Roy. 'So you're feeling guilty because you like this guy, who, I assume, is our version of whoever your significant other was over there?'

Edward nods. Hughes never fails to astound him. 'It's not fair… I never even got to say "I love you"… I miss him, and this guy, while he may be exactly like R- like him… he just isn't.'

Hughes watches him from over the top of his glasses for a minute, his eyes searching Edward's face. 'I think you should give this guy a chance.'

Edward wants to disagree. He wants to tell Hughes that he shouldn't be allowed to give this Roy a chance when his Roy is gone. He thinks that the older man senses this, because he holds up a hand to stop any interruptions.

'No, Ed, be quiet for a second. Just give him a chance, okay? Your man from before wouldn't want you to be lonely and miserable, would he?'

'He'd kick my ass,' Edward murmurs, and Hughes chuckles.

'Exactly. And, if the guy loves you, then he wouldn't mind if you dated our version of him. After all, you're still loving him, in a sense, aren't you?'

'But it's not the same-' Edward argues, but Hughes cuts him off.

'I know, kid, I know. But, just try it out. Promise? Meet him for coffee, or something.'

'I haven't seen him since last week,' Edward finally confesses, and Hughes arches an eyebrow.

'O-ho,' he grins suddenly, and those eyes are far too knowing for his liking. 'So he's the reason for your sudden exile, is he? You've got it bad, kid. But, don't worry. I'm sure he'll turn up. Have a little faith.'

Edward nods as Hughes stands and clasps a hand on his shoulder. 'I've got to run, but, I'll see you around, okay? Take care, and you'd better keep me updated!'

And with that, Hughes saunters off and Edward makes his way to his boring, mind-numbing job as a cashier in a bookstore, his mind far away.

**

Edward faithfully returns to the café every morning, always half-hoping and half-dreading that he will see Roy. By the ninth morning (he refuses to admit that he's counting, but, he is, and he hates this pining that he's doing over someone he's not even sure remembers their deal), he'd just about given up, when-

'Is this seat taken?'

(Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's back in the cafeteria at Central, and Roy is standing across from him, smirking.

'Is this seat taken?')

Edward's heart soars and his stomach plummets as he looks up from the dregs of his coffee to see Roy standing across the table from him. He wants to get up and kiss him senseless, but, in a valiant show of self-restraint that he doesn't know he had prior to coming to Germany (because assaulting people is illegal, Hughes tells him), Edward shakes his head allows himself a small smile. Roy sits down as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

'I thought you'd forgotten our deal,' Edward says conversationally as he motions over the waitress and orders both of them a coffee.

'Isn't that my line?' Roy teases, with that adorable glint in his eye that always makes Edward's breath catch in his throat. 'After a few days, I'd just about convinced myself that the good-looking blonde man I'd met had forgotten about me.'

Edward blushes and shifts uneasily. He knows this tone of Roy's - the one that, in a roundabout way, is going to pry for the answer to without asking the question.

'I caught a fever from someone at work,' he lies effortlessly, knowing that Roy won't buy it, but hoping all the same. 'I was bedridden for a week.'

Roy doesn't believe him, and the small frown that crosses his face proves it. But, thankfully, he lets the matter drop. 'All better now, I hope?'

'Yeah. Thanks,' he addresses the last part to both Roy and the waitress who had just deposited two cups of coffee on their table. 'I've been here almost every morning since, though.'

Roy grins apologetically. 'I told you, I'd given up, but I had to try again – just in case.'

Edward smiles. It's the kind of thing that Roy would admit to him, and him alone. He hates himself for being so relaxed, and thinking – just for a brief moment – that he's back in Amestris and everything's okay again. Roy is even wearing a black turtleneck sweater identical to the one Edward bought him the year before everything went to hell and they ended up, quite literally, worlds apart. (A wry grin crosses his face as he remembers one of the classics he read on a slow day in the store. Romeo, Juliet, eat your fucking hearts out).

'So, what do you do for a living?' the blonde asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

Roy looks a little bit sheepish now. 'I'm a journalist, actually. Not very glamorous, I know, but…'

(He remembers one night, the two of them lie together, skin on skin, completely sated. They are talking about everything and nothing, and he asks Roy what he would have been if he didn't join the military.

'I'd be a journalist,' Roy responds. 'It's not very glamorous compared to the military, I know, but…')

'… I'm still trying to make a difference in the world.'

('… I could still try to make a difference.')

Edward blinks and is startled for a second. That's twice in quick succession that someone in this world has ever said something almost word-for-word that someone in his world had said – normally it only happens once. It's disconcerting, and he doesn't like it.

'What about you?' Roy asks, taking a sip of his coffee. 'What do you do? I'm sure it's-'

('-I'm sure your dream career would be something flashy and important,' Roy laughs as the man in his arms nudges him slightly, trying to be annoyed but failing. 'After all, you're Edward Elric! Your very presence screams "look at me"!'

Edward stares at him for a second as if he's grown a second head, before bursting into laughter. 'You've been talking to Hughes lately, haven't you?')

'-something flashy.'

Edward doesn't like the way that Roy keeps saying things that his Roy said. It just makes his heart ache all the more. 'What makes you say that?'

Roy tilts his head, considering Edward for a moment. He can almost convince himself that Roy is wondering why the blonde isn't playing along with him. 'I don't know. You just seem like that kind of person, who would want to do something important.'

He chuckles a little. 'I want to do charity work, but I can hardly afford my rent as it is. I work in a bookstore.'

'Charity work? That's-'

('-noble, Ed.' Roy looks at him and Edward sees in his eyes pride and whole, unconditional love that nobody else in Roy's life had been awarded. 'I wouldn't have thought you'd choose charity work.'

Edward shrugs, cuddling up to Roy and laying his head back down on his lover's shoulder. 'You're not the only one who wants to make a difference.')

'-noble of you.' Edward wants to cry, and, for a crazed moment, wonders if this Roy is somehow his Roy trying to torment him for thinking of someone else, even though it's the same person.

The blonde replays that thought in his head, and realises that it hardly makes sense to him. He needs more sleep. Not thinking about Roy all the time would really help, too.

'What time do you start work today?' Roy asks as they finish their coffees, but neither moves to get up.

'I start later on Wednesdays, so I've got another two hours or so. What about you?'

Roy grins. 'I'm a freelance journalist, and, at the moment, I don't have much to report on. So I decided to visit some other parts of Germany and do some sightseeing. And I've definitely found some very pretty sights to see.'

Edward blushes as Roy watches him with that slightly flirtatious smile that always makes him tongue-tied until he gives up on talking and just kisses the bastard. He wishes he could do that now (and he wishes with all of his heart and soul that the man sitting across from him was his Roy – his Roy, who he'd left in Amestris, while here he is, allowing the German counterpart to flirt with him while he just sits there and blushes like a schoolgirl…)

Edward felt suddenly sick with himself. He stood up, ignoring the surprised and slightly upset expression on Roy's face. 'I-I've just remembered, I've got a few errands to run. Sorry, Roy. See you around?'

'Will you be here tomorrow?' Roy asks, and Edward pretends not to hear as he rushes off. He can feel Roy's stare burning into him as he makes his way down the street, fighting back tears of self-hate and disappointment. He didn't understand. Nobody else on this side of the Gate affected him so – not even Alfons, who looked so much like the little brother that he loved dearly. But Roy… Roy was something else. It was almost like he knew about the things that his Roy had said to him – but he couldn't. Could he?

**

It's been three days since the disaster with Roy. Edward finds a new café, closer to the bookstore when he works. The coffee is too bitter, the bread rolls too dry, and everything far too expensive for his meagre salary to handle 7 days a week, along with rent. But, at least it gives him sanctuary from Roy. Unfortunately, it doesn't hide him from Hughes, who, both in this world and at home, proves to be a very effective stalker.

'I didn't expect you to like this kind of place,' the hazel-eyed man slides into the seat across from him.

'I don't,' Edward replies, tearing his bread roll into small pieces. He hasn't had much of an appetite lately.

'Then why are you hiding out in here, instead of that lovely place you're always in? Did you do what I asked and met up with your man? Ooh, is that why you're here? It didn't go that badly, did it?'

Edward sighs, running a hand through his hair. 'This guy keeps talking like he did, back at home.'

Hughes frowns a little. 'What do you mean, Ed?'

'Every now and then, he'll say something almost word-for-word that his other self said to me at home.'

'Does it hurt when he does?' Hughes asks softly, and Edward's silence is all he needs. 'I don't think you should avoid him, Edward. Get to know him. And anyway, if this guy doesn't cut it, I had some Asian-looking reporter asking around about the pretty blonde boy from the café near Gracia's flower shop. Maybe give him a try?'

With a smile that's too cunning and too knowing, Hughes takes his leave and Edward makes his way to work, trying to tell himself that his heart is racing from the large amount of caffeine he had just consumed, and definitely not because Roy is asking for him.

It takes Edward another day to work up the courage to go back to his regular café. His heart skips a beat as he sees an almost desolate-looking Roy sitting, slightly hunched, at Edward's usual table. Roy doesn't look up as he makes his way over to the table.

'Is this seat taken?'

(A blonde in a red coat walks over to where his superior is sitting, eating lunch. It's today. They're going to tell everyone today. And it's going to start now.

'Is this seat taken?'

Roy looks up, startled for a moment, and then smiles.)

Roy looks up and a grin spreads across his face. He looks so happy that Edward's heart breaks and he misses his Roy all the more. No matter how similar they may be, this isn't his Roy. This isn't the Roy in whose arms he would lay at night. This isn't the Roy who could take his breath away with a single look, or make his heart sing with a smile and a kiss. This isn't the Roy who was secretly a hopeless romantic that often showered the smaller man with gifts. This isn't the Roy he loves (and not a day has gone by since he came back to Germany for good where Edward hasn't hated himself for not saying those three simple words to the other man. If he could see Roy once more, even for five minutes, 'I love you' is the only thing he would say. Maybe, if he'd said it, he could move on).

'Not at all,' Roy smiles, bringing him back to the present. 'I was wondering if I'd ever see you again.'

'I'm making disappearing into a bit of a habit, aren’t I? You should probably shower more often, Mustang.' Edward sits down and hates the way his heart does somersaults to the sound of Roy's laughter.

'I'm sorry if something I said last time upset you.' Roy says as they order coffee. Edward shrugs it off.

'It's fine.'

Roy looks at him for a second. 'Or maybe you didn't disappear.'

'What?' Edward is confused.

'Maybe I just couldn't see you from up here.'

The blonde is silent for a second, processing what was just said.

'Are you calling me short?!'

**

On the third morning in a row of them meeting up for coffee, Roy asks him out.

They are talking, and Edward can't remember what he was saying. The older man suddenly looks nervous. 'I was wondering if, uh, you'd like to come to dinner with me, maybe tomorrow night…?'

(Edward is eighteen now, standing in front of Roy, whose calm demeanour seems to be slipping.

'Fullm- Edward,' Roy clears his throat. 'I was wondering if you'd accompany me to dinner tomorrow night?')

'As friends?' Edward asks in an attempt to be nonchalant, knowing the answer already.

('As friends?' the blonde asks, in all his naïveté.

'No… I was thinking as, perhaps, a date.')

'No, uh, I was thinking as maybe a date.'

And in that moment, Edward hates Roy. He hates Roy for asking him on a date, and Edward hates his heart for screaming 'Yes! Say yes, you fucking moron!', and he hates everything that led up to him being stuck in Germany twice as much as he normally does.

'Sure,' Edward responds before he can change his mind. The relieved look in Roy's eyes says so much more than words ever could. 'But you're paying.'

Roy chuckles. 'Of course. After all, I can't have the female of the pair paying, can I?'

Edward's temper flares in the way that only his Roy could manage. 'Bastard!'

The older man's laughter is contagious and after a while, the blonde joins in.

The memory of that morning carries Edward through the rest of the day. He can't even get angry at himself for the flirting that was laced into their banter. He doesn't even bother to hate himself for being ridiculously excited for their date tomorrow evening. It's almost like having his Roy back, and he loves it.

Of course, the anger, disappointment, hate and guilt are still there in the back of his mind, and he knows that they'll come back full force eventually. But, he can't bring himself to care. It is just like when he and Roy had first started out – Edward had been walking on clouds for weeks, trying so hard to wipe the stupid grin off his face. The stolen kisses in empty corridors and behind locked doors had made his heart soar, and both he and Roy wondered how on earth they were keeping it secret – surely anyone who looked at them knew straight away. It was written all over their faces. But, no, they only found out once he and Roy decided to tell them. He always smiles at the memory of Furey going into a state of shock and Havoc choking on a cigarette.

'You're looking happy,' Hughes notes as he falls into step next to Edward. 'Something good happen? Promotion? Pay rise? New improvements with your man?'

'We're going on a date tomorrow,' Edward can't keep the grin from his face, and Hughes laughs, clapping him on the back.

'See? Aren't I amazing? Maes Hughes, World's Best Matchmaker- Hi, Gracia!' Hughes turns pink as he waves to Gracia. She looks up from the flowers she is tending and gives him a smile in acknowledgement. He goes bright red and trips over his own feet amid gales of Edward's laughter.

**

Edward spends all day thinking about his date with Roy. He wonders where Roy will take him and what Roy will wear. He wonders if he'll get tongue-tied when he opens his door to find Roy standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe and looking like some sort of demigod. Edward hopes so.

The hours have dragged by, but finally, it's the end of his shift. Edward tears from the store and makes his way home as fast as he can, hoping that he has something to wear to make himself presentable (just like he used to, whenever he and his Roy were going on a date).

Edward decides to wear what he wore the last time his Roy had seen him, just before he'd gone back to Germany for good. He casts a small, sad smile towards the red coat folded neatly at the bottom of his wardrobe (Roy always said that Edward looked the best in that coat), before he is startled by a knock at the door. Surely it can't be Roy already?

But it is. Roy's eyes widen and he chokes slightly as he takes in Edward's appearance (almost as if he recognises the clothes that Edward's wearing – but how could he? Edward hasn't worn them since that day he went home for the last time, burning into his memory images of crumbling buildings and dead bodies-) and the blonde panics internally. What's wrong?

'You look good,' Roy responds to the unasked question in a strangled voice. There is an odd, nostalgic look in his eye, and the blonde is reminded of his Roy all over again and his heart aches. He notices that Roy is wearing the black turtleneck that Edward had picked out for the other him, along with the brown slacks that they'd bought together. He smiles as he remembers how that's the outfit that Roy would always wear on their anniversary.

'Thanks,' Edward grins and Roy seems to relax. He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, but he does. 'By the way, d'you know what the date is today?'

Roy looks at him. 'You don't keep track of the date?'

Edward shrugs. 'I keep track of what day it is, but, other than that, no.'

He isn't expecting the answer when it comes.

'It's the twenty-seventh of June.'

Edward freezes and goes cold. Their anniversary. Their fucking anniversary. The one day of the year that he devoted to his Roy and here he was going out with someone else who wasn't his Roy, no matter how similar they looked or acted, no matter the feeling he got when he was around.

'I-I'm sorry,' Edward says, and now it's his turn to sound strangled. 'Can… can we… reschedule?'

Roy looks at him strangely. 'Is something wrong?' Edward can almost hear him saying 'We always go out on our anniversary', and he feels sick.

'No, it's just, I don't normally go out today…'

Roy's eyes are far too understanding and there's a sadness in them that makes him think that, if he were here, this is what his Roy would look like. 'Is this date special to you?'

'Yeah. It's m- uh, yeah, it is.' Edward stammers. What the fuck is wrong with him?

The older man watches him in a way that makes him wonder whether he's looking at Germany's Roy, or his Roy. It's the stare that looks straight through all of the walls Edward has built around himself and straight into his soul. The stare that lies all of Edward's innermost secrets bare and makes him feel eleven years old again. There is a flash of something in Roy's eyes, and he is almost convinced that it really is his Roy, but then he remembers that it can't be and he wants to break something. He's past wanting to cry every time he looks into those eyes (because he's done enough crying over the past two weeks – sobs that shake his entire body as he holds his red coat close, the only thing that smells like Roy anymore, wishing that he could turn back time so he never met this man who was his once but isn't, wishing that he'd been selfish just for once and taken Roy with him, instead of watching Roy as he held onto a struggling Alphonse, silent as both of them cried out for him to come back…), now, he just wants to scream and destroy things and pretend that inside he isn't desperately wishing that he could just hold this Roy and never let him go.

Edward realises that Roy had been saying something. 'Sorry?'

'I said that, if today is so special, why don't we go out and celebrate whatever it is? It doesn't have to be a date, just two friends going out for a drink.'

He looks into Roy's eyes and neither one says that they desperately want this to be a date. Finally, Edward sighs. Drowning his sorrows in a bar is just the social equivalent of what he was planning to do, anyway.

'Sure,' Edward says finally, missing the strange look that passes Roy's face as he gets his coat. 'Let's go.'

The bar that Roy chooses is small and out-of-the-way, but just loud enough for them to talk to each other without anyone else listening in. It's perfect and so like Roy that Edward orders the most alcoholic thing on the menu when the bartender turns to them. Roy arches an eyebrow and Edward shrugs, offering 'I'm German,' as explanation. The cheeky grin that Roy gives him tells him that Roy takes the excuse.

The two of them talk. They ask questions about each other that Edward can almost convince himself that both of them already know the answer to. They talk about their childhoods, past lovers, favourite books, what kind of music they like and their favourite foods. And, as Edward's mind goes steadily fuzzier, he knows that, regardless of what Roy said earlier that night, it's turning into a date. The alcohol does wonderful things for his mind and he manages to flirt a little with Roy without feeling horribly guilty. However, he is wary. He knows that if he drinks any more he's sure to slip and tell this Roy everything. Roy looks at him, but says nothing, as he declines another drink.

'What, is that all you can hold?' Roy teases. 'For someone of your stature, I'm not surprised…'

('Can't hold your alcohol very well, can you, Fullmetal?' Roy grins as he supports a tipsy blonde. 'But then again, small people never can…'

'Bastard!')

Edward glares at him. 'Are you calling me short?'

Roy looks for all the world as if he's seriously considering the question. 'Why, yes, I believe I am.'

'Bastard,' Edward shoves Roy and the older man laughs.

They talk for a few more hours and Edward has a few more drinks every time he feels his mind sharpening just a little. He wants to remember tonight, but he doesn't want to ruin it with his guilt. Roy looks over at him as a few more people leave. The bar is a little too empty for their liking. 'Shall we go?'

Edward nods, and they leave, the blonde walking with a little less grace than usual. 'I don't want to go home yet.'

'Neither do I,' Roy agrees.

Instead, they take a walk. They walk past their café (Edward wonders when he started thinking of it as their café, and not just his) and Edward points out the bookstore where he works as they pass. He spends a few minutes abusing his boss and Roy laughs. Edward decides not to question the sad tone of the laugh. (He wonders whether his Roy would laugh sadly at that, too – would he be jealous that he's no longer the only boss who can get under his skin? But, of course, Edward dismisses that thought. Roy can get under his skin like nobody else.)

The two of them slowly wander the streets, enjoying the fact that it's Friday night and neither of them has to rush anywhere the next day. They pass a small park that is close to Edward's flat, and they decide to take a detour. The blonde turns to his date, grabs his hand and drags him over to the swings, laughing. Edward loves swings – the way he swings high enough that he can pretend he's flying reminds him of Roy. He's swinging and laughing and talking to Roy on every down stroke, and Roy sits on the other swing, moving far enough away so that he won't get hit on any of the blonde's particularly high swings. They stay there for a while, talking whenever Edward swings down, laughing whenever Edward goes too high. Eventually, Edward's swings slow down and they sit side-by-side, hands clutching the chains of the swings, knuckles just barely touching.

'You know, I never did ask you,' the blonde said, slightly breathless. 'But, where are you from?'

'Japan,' Roy says, and Edward arches an eyebrow.

'And you came to Germany, of all places? Why?'

The older man looks at him. 'I made a promise to someone, and I intended to keep it.'

(Edward remembers another one of their anniversaries – they are lying together, just enjoying each other's company. He looks up at Roy. 'D'you promise to stay with me?'

Roy looks at him, knowing that this is more than just a simple question. Edward is begging him to stay by his side forever, like nobody else had. He holds the blonde tighter for a brief moment and whispers,

'I'd follow you to the ends of the earth if I had to.')

The blonde stares at him, pieces slowly falling into place. Roy is leaning in and Edward isn't paying attention, but then their lips collide and – oh God, his heart soars and he just knows that it really is his Roy standing there because no other Roy could leave him feeling this way after a single kiss.

The older man pulls back, looking hesitant. Edward can't remember either of them standing up, but somehow his arms are around Roy's neck and Roy's arms are encircling his waist. Dark eyes boring into him, he moves to stand back, and the blonde tightens his grip. In response, Roy holds him closer, still waiting for an answer.

Edward settles for hitting him on the arm. 'Bastard. Why didn't you tell me?'

'I tried,' Roy replies. 'I couldn't find the words.'

The blonde snorts, leaning his forehead against the older man's chest, if only to hide his smile, happier than he's been for a long time. 'The great Roy Mustang, unable to find the words? Yeah, right.'

'Would you have believed me?' he whispers, and Edward falls silent.

'No, I wouldn't have.' 

He pulls back a little and looks up at Roy, his heart flying as his mind finally realises that he's in his Roy's arms. He doesn't know how, and it's the best feeling in the world when he realises that he doesn't care, as long as Roy stays here and he doesn't wake up alone. The dark-haired man looks like he's going to say something, but Edward cuts him off with a quick kiss, pulling back before Roy can deepen it. The blonde knows what he needs to say, and he can't meet Roy's eyes. 'I love you.'

Roy goes still, and Edward doesn't need to look up to know that Roy's staring at him. Finally, he responds, a little choked. 'I love you, too.'

He doesn't feel so alone anymore and as Roy leans in again he suddenly realises that he doesn't hate Germany that much, after all.


End file.
